Shadow Assassins
by TheBatKid
Summary: Nazir feels a shift in the wind. A recruit joins the Dawnstar Sanctuary, with a strange tendency to stay silent and disappear for days on end. What could he be hiding? And why does Nazir feel the need to find out?
1. Chapter 1

Shadow Assassins

The cold stone hideaway, three assassins sat quietly together. The wooden table in front of them heaved with gold and jewels as they softly spoke, recalling their recent adventures and assassinations.

Two of them were very new to the brotherhood. They had yet to fully understand the full importance for the Night Mother and respect towards her, but they had shown promise. Nazir, the third assassin, was a seasoned killer however, and oversaw the recruiting of the new members. He was proud of the new ones...but he could not help feeling that the Dark Brotherhood was heading for another surprise.

During what he liked to call, "The Abandonment of the Tenants," he had followed a woman named Astrid. She had been skilled at her job, although her complete disregard of the Night Mother had ultimately led to their destruction. Nazir had been blind to their degrading status out in the world, when they were not getting the Black Sacrament messages and had to rely on rumours from passing travellers. Now he understood that Astrid had overall almost destroyed the brotherhood.

However, he did not like to dabble in the past now. The Listener had been chosen – a recruit from the old Falkreath sanctuary – and the insufferable Cicero had returned to tend to the Unholy Matron with an almost...disturbing dedication. It seemed that the Brotherhood was finally back on its feet and heading towards a prosperous, blood-spattered future.

So why did he feel as if they were about to have another surprise? Was Astrid's betrayal and the death of nearly all his friends not enough? Was Sithis trying to test the new recruits in some way? Maybe he was just having another one of his "off days"...it would be a better explanation and put him more at ease.

"Nazir," he turned to see the young Babette approaching him, "I hear rumours that a new recruit is on his way."

The man from shifting sands smiled at his vampire friend and replied, "Really? Where have you heard that?"

"From my meals, mostly," she answered airily whilst sitting beside one of the recruits. The assassin had been around for three hundred and ten years – a long enough time to perfect her techniques and master the skills required for the Dark Brotherhood. It had been so long that she had forgotten trivial things, like the faces of her family, but she did not linger on these losses too much. She enjoyed her new family life, and the gold that came with it.

"Well, I've felt shifts in the wind for a few days now. Maybe this aspiring killer will make new legends for these halls? The Listener will surely be pleased," Nazir said as he stroked the soft red garment he wore. The recruits stood up and excused themselves, heading towards the torture chamber and whispering about how Babette made them feel uncomfortable.

The seasoned members sat in silence for a while. Cicero's inane mutterings were heard in the distance as he spoke lovingly to the Night Mother, and his awful dance steps echoed through the cold hallways. The vampire growled under her breath, like she was wishing the madman would drop dead.

"Shifts in the wind," the Un-child's voice suddenly broke the silence. Nazir looked up at her with confusion. "You mentioned that you felt shifts in the wind. What did you mean by that?"

The question caught him off-guard. He did not know quite how to explain it, and even less how she would take it, but he knew better than to try and pull the wool over her eyes. She would get the truth out of him one way or another.

"I do not know, Babette. A few days ago, I awoke in the middle of the night to a strange feeling rising in my gut. It was as if bile were rising from my stomach to my gullet. I thought I might've been sick, but it started happening every night despite my taking potions. I think we are heading for a surprise...and I do not know if we will welcome it."

She nodded at the answer. Her ancient mind began to work over the possibilities – a lingering illness? A sign of things to come?

"You should try and get some more rest, Nazir, and see if that corrects it," she suggested, "I have noticed that you don't sleep much these days, since...Falkreath."

He nodded absent-mindedly and stood up from the table. A giant bag overflowing with gold fell to the floor and burst, scattering its shiny insides all over the dirty grey floor, and causing the man to sigh angrily.

He felt like bad luck was about to follow his beloved family. During the Abandonment, he felt the same way, and it caused years of slow decline to the Brotherhood that they were almost blind to. He was not about to let the same thing happen again.

"If the rumoured recruit turns up, wake me. I want to greet him personally."


	2. The Dreams of Warnings

Nazir slept on his small wooden bed. The animal skin beneath him slightly scratched against his dark skin but he did not care, since he had long ago fallen under the deep spell of unconsciousness. The world around him had slowly melted away and he now lived in a fond little memory.

The assassin ducked down behind a sand dune and watched as his target moved across the sun baked sands. The Khajiit left small paw-prints behind him and carried a massive satchel, probably over-flowing with foreign trinkets and riches that Nazir could only begin to imagine. His target's greyish fur brushed flat against its face whilst it moved anxiously across the desert...like a fish out of water.

Readying his daggers, the rogue began to move forward. His silent steps barely made noticeable prints and his lightning fast movements were unheard; he had only been doing this for a while but it had already become a second nature for him. The thrill of stalking his 'prey' until he could get them alone, and ending their lives with one simple expert cut to the throat...it was exhilarating. It was amazing. It was addictive.

He jumped and prepared to make a kill, but when he landed he found the Khajiit had disappeared. Was it magic? Was it some sort of sorcery that he had not been accustomed too yet? He was about to shout out a challenge when he noticed the scenery around him almost melting away, as if they were made out of hot ice. It slowly gave birth to a cold, stone hall that had an awful draft blowing in from different directions.

Darkness enveloped him, in a way he was not used to. Instead of falling into the shadows like he normally would and embracing the cover it gave, he felt like there was a lingering danger within them. Something that he was not comfortable with being around.

He looked across to the only lit part of the circular hall. A person sat at a table with darkened skin, but he seemed to be a Nord and he had dark neatly cut hair. Maybe he had a bit of Redguard heritage? He seemed to be totally silent and still, like he was slowly turning into a statue, when he turned and glinted his emerald eyes towards Nazir.

The man of shifting sands looked deeply into the eyes. He could see all sorts of things there – anger, insanity, dark thoughts – but mostly he could see a skilled and seasoned killer. The stranger stood up from the small wooden table and moved towards the assassin with a tight lipped frown on his face.

Suddenly, Nazir felt his lips moving, but the words were not his own.

"I know what you've been doing," he said, "I've seen you do it. Did you think that no one would find out? How dare you do this to the Brotherhood!"

The strange continued to stare into his challenger's eyes. It was like a challenge; a taunt that made the assassin get angrier and angrier every second he glared.

Slowly, the darkened man began to open his mouth as if to say something. Nazir narrowed his eyes and pricked his ears, waiting for the words, but he found that the images began to fade away before they were uttered. The stranger disappeared into the background. The stones began to fall and crumble like dust. The draft stopped blowing and the table dismantled itself and dance away like some crazy nightmare.

Nazir shouted, "NO," out loud when he woke up in his room. The stones had returned, familiar now, and he could see Babette standing at the end of his bed with a hand on his leg, shaking him awake. She looked concerned for a moment at his outburst but before she could ask him what was wrong, he stood up and started to collect his weapons.

"Why did you wake me?"

"You told me to wake you if that new recruit arrived. We've had a...strange arrival. He's waiting out in the hall for his first contract," she answered. Her blood-red eyes looked up at her friend with slight worry. "At least, I assume he is. He didn't say a word. He just looked at Cicero and pushed him aside. I've never seen someone so...quiet."

"Really? That's..." He gulped slightly, "Lovely. At least it'll be someone who listens to orders and doesn't ask much. Come, let's go."

He could not help feeling like things were going to get worse.


End file.
